Без рубрики

Термо­с был старенький, советский, с толстой стеклянной колбой и покрытый патиной от частого мытья.

Evening in the launderette The frosted lights above the machines buzzed low, as if they were whispering

Dont you have a mother any more! Margaret snapped, her voice cracking like a cracked teacup.

The old thermos was a battered tin, its glass belly swollen and its surface dulled by countless washes

26October2025 I stared at my reflection in the hallway mirror, a mixture of melancholy and resignation

Victor shut his eyes. Thirtyfive years ago, Martha lay in a hospital ward, pale and exhausted.

The evening had turned dark and chilly, even though spring was already well on its way. Fresh green leaves

Never shall you have a mother again! my motherinlaw thundered. Forget that you ever had a mother.

I still remember the day I overheard my husbands conversation with his mother. Did you buy that sausage again?